Re:
I've had a bit of sleep now so I can report on my journey to and from Pat Adam's house which involved freezing headwinds, hitting a badger and rescuing a wandering vomity drunk man...
So, I had intended to set off at about 7am this morning to get to Pat's before 9am to hand over my event entry form.
After an evening mountain bike ride and a post ride pint I got home just after midnight, downloaded the entry form and considered getting some sleep.
I'd switched to coffee in the pub knowing that I'd need a clear head for an early morning ride so as a result felt wide awake.
The plan was changed. I checked my lights were fully charged and set off on the 35 mile round trip at about 1:30am.
The ride there was pretty straight forward, it was cold and blustery but I got into a good tempo on the more sheltered sections and kept my powder dry on the climbs.
The last section over Morridge top at 489m (1604ft) was a bit brutal with the cold cross wind nearly swiping out my front wheel from under me a couple of times. This however translated into a gusty tailwind down the long, fast and slightly wobbly descent to Reapsmoor and the warmth of chez Adams.
http://www.mountain-mayhem.com/midnight-entries-2/
Fueled up with some chatting over coffee and cake, I filled in my entry form, handed over a cheque and eventually steeled my resolve to head back out into the cold some time after 3:30am.
It was colder and windier now, I shivered down the rest of the descent into Longnor before picking up a different route back towards Macclesfield. Whichever route I had to choose from involved a long climb back over Morridge only this time I was riding from the very bottom of the valley and into a headwind.
The 4 mile climb was pretty (very) tough. The headwind just got colder and stronger as I crawled up higher and higher. Fortunately my winter road bike has a triple chainset which meant I could slowly spin my way up as the lack of sleeping began to kick in. I was buffeted by the gales as I weaved up over the false summits.
A few energy gels kept me moving until I at last got to top and the relief of the long descent through Goldsitch Moss. I gripped the bars hard to keep control in the testing gusty winds.
Hitting the bottom of the next valley at Gradbach offered some shelter from the wind, but also signaled the start of another mile of steep climbing and another gusty descent before a stop for a light battery change and an energy gel outside the Rose and Crown at Allgreave.
It was some time after 4:30am at this point. I'd stopped checking what time it was. I had one last 10% one mile climb to spin up until I could take in the final long roll in to Macclesfield.
I employed a variety of strategies for this climb. Counting pedal strokes, motivational self loathing, imaginary scenarios at the top of the hill... anything. Ultimately though, it was actually quite nice to take in the peace and quiet and look at the big old lantern moon. At least I hadn't started hallucinating yet...
Then at about 5am I clicked up into the big chainring and started the four mile descent back home. Concentration turned up to the maximum as the strong gusty wind kept on trying to floor me. I moderated my speed and kept my line in the centre of the ribbon of tarmac.
With only a couple of miles left I knew I'd cracked it. Then a badger suddenly but casually began sauntering out into the road in front of me. I hit the brakes, scrubbing off plenty of speed and resisted the urge to swerve knowing my skinny road tires would slide on the damp road.
Weight back I braced and then 'BANG!' My front wheel clattered into the big grey stripey bugger, sending a shockwave up through my back and neck, but miraculously I stayed on my bike and in control.
I stopped, turning quickly around. I scanned the hedgerow. The badger was of course gone, probably, hopefully, feeling few effects. Then my attention turned to my bike, lifting the front end to spin the front wheel to check the damage. Still perfectly true... I always knew I built good strong wheels.
My back and neck was sore though...
I climbed back onto my bike and continued to roll down towards home, tempering my speed just in case of more badgers, foxes, livestock.... Then a couple of corners down the road, my head torch picked out a lone figure staggering and waving up ahead.
I banished the thoughts of a zombie apocalypse and slowed to pull up alongside a tall skinny man in a blue vomit stained shirt.
"Are you okay? " I enquired...
"Yeah err no, I've been thrown out of a taxi..." He slurred.
"Have you been sick?" I asked.
"Err no, err I don't know what happened, I've sprained my ankle I don't know where I am...!"
This chap was clearly in a spot of bother, and he was heading in the wrong direction, up into the cold dark hills with no coat and no torch.
"Is there a Little Chef up here?" he asked.
I tried not to laugh and assured him that he needed to head back the way he'd come from.
There wasn't much I could do, I wasn't about to give him a 'backy', so I gave him a little LED torch I carried for emergency use, wished him luck and made him promise that he'd keep walking back towards civilisation.
The last couple of miles after the badger and the beer zombie were pretty easy. The road was level and sheltered and I was soon back home.
Key in the door at 5:30am absolutely drained. Shower, bed.
Hopefully riding solo at Mayhem will be a little less badgery.
I will be prepared for 10 man beer zombies though.
